[PRP] a long, monotonous journey... [Foxy / Shush]

[Maxx D]

They had been running in silence for a while, as they had been before that, except now in the right direction.

Foxy was mulling over the mysteries of this doe. After all, she had noted, she didn't know if she'd come from the plains, whether she was always so silent - she didn't even know her name.
This troubled Foxy, for she had felt a great warmth towards her, and the meddlesome part of her nature felt very much like she needed help, and she was fairly sure she could help. Also, if she'd knew more about her, she could probably find her a nice buck. Some constant company would do her good, and she was such a pretty girl.

"Pretty girl," she said playfully over the sounds of their hoofsteps, "did you come with the Ache, too?"  

[Jun D]

The Ache. It had been so long since she'd heard the word. She hadn't known what it had meant, the first time he said. He'd said it so gently, she could hear the smile. She could hear the wistfulness, in his smile, in the word.

She could hear it in his labouring breath as he'd died.

She had never felt the Ache. If she had been alone, she might never have left the Plains. But there was nothing for her there, and nothing for her here.

"No," she whispered.  

[Maxx D]

Encouraged by her actually responding, Foxy continued after a short, polite pause.

"Born in the swamp, then?" Her tone was so light, just like the burgeoning hope in her heart. Any magnitude of her questions escaped her as she paved the way forward.  

[Jun D]

"No," she whispered.  

[Maxx D]

"Oh!" Foxy said, with a skip.

The scenery paced by under their legs. She was considering what to say.

"Was it hard making your way to the swamp, darling? You're an incredible runner, it's true, but it's a rather long way I imagine. It was awful long for me."

It was really bringing back memories, making their far way to the mountains.  

[Jun D]

"Yes…" she whispered.

The weight of his pain. The strain of his failing body. How slowly they'd moved, step by wavering step. How hot the sun beat down. How cold the long nights froze. How kind his words, his waning words, with every ebbing breath. She would have lain down there, with him, forever, if she had been alone. It would not have hurt so much, to lay down there with him forever, if she had been alone.

"It…was hard," she said.  

[Maxx D]

"Oh darling," she heard the considered, tender whisper's feelings, drifting to her. "There's a shame. After all, with the Ache, at least when you arrive in the swamp, it leaves. You know, when the Ache lifts, it makes the swamp seem so pretty, as if it were worth the while. Why, if I hadn't been driven to it, I don't think I would have left."

"I'm sorry."

It turned out she wasn't really any closer to knowing more about her past, and it made her sad.

"What's your name, by the way?" That was safe.  

[Jun D]

Had she said it? She couldn't remember. It never mattered, not anymore, not ever since he'd died, and then she'd died. She never said it; she said it all the time. It felt a strange time for a ghost to give, their name.

But the doe was so kind, and indulged her so. And she would lead her to the mountains, if she could.

It might please her, if she said it. Surely it would. She had a name. She used it once; she said it all the time.

Shh-shhh-

"Shush," she whispered, like a sigh.  

[Maxx D]

If she had been told that by anyone else, she would have paused and stared with the indignant fury of a Totoma scorned, but this sweet doe was not, as far as she knew, capable of such scorn, and she turned her head 'round to openly stare at her, rolling the name in her head.

"It's a beautiful name it is," she said, turning her head back to the path. "Could have been a Totoma title too, you know, but that would have been far more violent shushing." She laughed. "But as a dream, it suits you terribly. I had dreamt of you, you know, and now that I recall it, it feels so much like your name: Shush, Shush.

You wouldn't mind if I called you Shush, would you?"  

[Jun D]

"No," she sighed.

END